Never open old scars that you can’t close. And that’s exactly what we were doing: Opening old scars.
It was on August 20th, 2013 that my journal entries began. It served both as an emotional outlet and a method to externalize ideas. It was important to me because living alone in a city can have its toll on mental health. In this case, my journey began with curiosity and a search for healing. Something within me (which I am unaware of) hinted that something was wrong. With that said, I had one obstacle: finances. I did not have the funds (let alone the know-how) to find a licensed counselor. I was a 22-year-old college student trying to figure life out. It just so happened that a small church near my home offered free therapy sessions for their members. In discovering this, I considered myself lucky. Little did I know it would leave me with more questions and years without answers.
A typical client-and-therapist relationship is unique from other relationships. There is an expected atmosphere of both professionalism and a tad of compassion. It’s an area that’s free of judgment. After all, it takes trust to tell someone your deepest and darkest troubles. A perfect example of mental health stigma is that of clinical depression. Society often accuses the clinically depressed of “playing a victim.” They say the answer to depression is to “get over it” as if it were some object of excuse. But the phrase holds true: You can imagine being in someone’s shoes, but you cannot walk in them. Inner experience is subjective. So, a subtle reply to their accusations would be, “You deal with your business, and I’ll deal with mine.” A snarkier response would be, “Mind your own business.” It’s important to keep evaluative judgment out of a therapy session. Stigma and judgment make things even more difficult.
Going to my first session was intimidating in a way. I had no clue what to expect. But on arrival, I was greeted by Pastor Don — the church’s pastoral counselor. He was somewhat elderly with a stern attitude. He wasn’t one to say, “How can I help you?” but “Tell me what you want so I can leave.” Undenounced to me, this attitude would lead to my regret. He used our first few sessions to learn of my situation. With further examination, he determined I was clinically depressed. So, my curiosity about my health was valid. I had gotten it right.
I’m a believer in innovative thinking — especially in today’s world. It’s funny to say that all the knowledge in the world is at the end of our fingertips. In the case of mobile phones, I suppose it’s our thumbs. But the one field in which self-innovation is highly ineffective is the medical field — physical or mental. In all cases, please don’t attempt to self-diagnose. I once attempted to self-diagnose my health with Google. It gave me two possibilities: The first was that my condition was common. I could wait a week for it to go away. The second said my condition would lead to my death if I didn’t get to the emergency room in two hours. It’s safe to say I had the first condition. Thanks, Google.
I was unaware that my therapist was without a proper clinical license. I think he was unaware just as much — up until it was too late. The purpose of this blog isn’t to burden you with a lengthy story about my problems. Neither is it about pastors or preachers living a different standard than everyone else. Rather, it’s about forgiveness. We’ve covered this issue in the past. Godly professionalism is required to become a stronger spiritual leader. Whatever form it may take, there is an assumed level of trust in your professional (including spiritual) intentions. To devote yourself to a God-given mission is to stay committed to it. Remember: God’s stage is not your stage.
It’s difficult to explain on pen and paper the level (and the type) of trust between therapist and client. But that trust was tested when my suicidal thoughts began. The first few months of sessions were observance of shallow issues. But a few months later, we began to open the deep scars of trauma. To clarify, I had already experienced my first hospitalization in the previous month or so. It was for suicidal ideation. The second occurrence occurred on the night of November 20th, 2014. On that day, my suicidal thoughts had reached a new pinnacle. By the end of the day, I would find myself being driven to the hospital by Pastor Don.
Pastor Don mistook his license as a clinical therapist. In other words, he was practicing therapy without proper licensing. It was illegal. And on the day of my hospitalization, I think he finally caught on with it. (Side note: I would discover this fact later) He made that discovery unannounced to me while I lay in a hospital bed. I would wake up early in the morning and approached by the hospital staff. They sat down to explain the whole situation. In a chat between Pastor Don and the hospital staff, I had been accused of abusing my power as a client. My level of unprofessionalism had led to a list of consequences: First, I was no longer his client. Second, I was to immediately end all communication with Pastor Don — both in person and over the phone. Third, I could no longer attend his church. To do so would prompt him to call the police, charge me with harassment, and consider filing a lawsuit. And finally, Pastor Don wanted me to know he forgave me for my unprofessionalism. It was a difficult decision on his part, but he did so for my own good.
I left the hospital with racing thoughts and mixed emotions. I felt sad because I had lost a (supposedly) caring therapist. I felt shame because it was (supposedly) my fault. I felt angry because he left without explaining ‘why’ in more detail. And I felt fear because of his proposed legal threats. I desired to have one last conversation with him to clear things up. I didn’t understand the situation. But this was impossible due to his legal threats. As a result, my mind was held captive for years without answers.
Hearing the news of his passing in 2021 allowed me to investigate. It was an opportunity for me to clear the cobwebs off my questions. Pastor Don’s legal threats were no longer intimidating.
My investigation began with a request for the hospital’s medical records. In all, there were 125 pages of medical notes. I read all 125 pages. But finally, I found what I was looking for. It was on page 82. The notes consisted of a conversation between Pastor Don and the hospital staff. To my surprise, he had written four pages of random accusations against me. There were too many accusations for me to count. There were too many accusations for me to repeat. If there was a possible way he could accuse me, he wrote it down.
This past year, I finally found the strength to attend my old church — the same church that Don and I attended. I found out the church had undergone renovation. It looked like a completely new building. New carpet. New building layout. New furniture. New offices. It was now under new maintenance. It just so happened I ran into an old church friend during the visit. They explained that the same month of my second hospitalization was the same month that Pastor Don left the church. He had left immediately after I was discharged from the hospital.
There was a lot to take in, so I took a step back and observed all of the facts: He practiced therapy without a proper license, dropped me as a client without warning, wrote four pages of accusations, threatened me with a lawsuit, ended all possible communication, and left the church he had attended for the past ten years. I pondered about these facts for the next few weeks in an attempt to put everything together. This is the best answer I could think of:
The Motive
On the night of my second hospitalization, he had realized his license was not certified. His pastoral license wasn’t qualified to help a suicidal patient. What he was doing was in-fact illegal. The possible consequences of this mistake were serious — possible loss of job, loss of reputation, revoke of license, possible lawsuits, and possible incarceration (in severe cases). He would lose everything.
The Plan
First, he wrote four pages of random accusations to give to the hospital. These accusations didn’t have to make sense — only needed to label me as unethical. This gave him reason to drop me instantly. He then used the threat of lawsuit to prevent any further communication. This prevented me from knowing why I was dropped. I couldn’t learn of his accusations. And finally, he left the church. This ended all possible communication. I was now buried in his past — along with the consequences of his actions.
The motive and the plan made sense to me. But there was one more point that didn’t make sense. It was the fact that we knew each other very well. Surely, he knew I would not seek legal action. I had no ill will against him. I sensed no bad intent on his part. In fact, I would have forgave him. It all would have ended there. But a few weeks later, I had a major revelation. It all made sense with one question…
What if I had successfully committed suicide? What if I wasn’t here to protect him? Then it would be guaranteed: He would have lost everything. Pastor Don wasn’t afraid of the consequences if I had lived. He was afraid of the consequences if I had died. And ultimately, he was expecting my death.
To declare yourself a spiritual leader (both to yourself and to society) is to take on the burden of trust. When God gives you a job, then let it be for God. Toss away pettiness. Give up any envy, jealousy, and desire for self glory. Put on the armor of God and fill your heart with God’s love. It’s through these things that we find the God-given purpose that we all beg and plead for. Your life’s purpose is in front of you. Let us take this opportunity and show the world of God’s love.
May God bless you all in whatever important journey that God has placed in front of you.